


Guns in My Head

by CoffeeQuill



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Flashbacks, Hurt and comfort, Insomnia, Lams - Freeform, Late at Night, M/M, Medication, Medicine, Modern AU, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeQuill/pseuds/CoffeeQuill
Summary: John's capture in the war left him with deep scars. A few nights a week, the nightmares will wake him up.Alex is there to reassure him he's safe.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [one_golden_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun/gifts).



> After listening to the songs "In Our Bedroom After the War" and "Spirits", this just sort of happened.

It’s not the first time Alex wakes alone in the middle of the night. Solid green block letters saying  _ 2:45 _ blink at him from the nightstand and he knows it’s going to be another one of those nights.

John is gone from the bed. Alex sits up and ties his hair back with the band on his wrist, and he’s barely out of bed when he hears glass shattering. A chill runs down his spine and he’s out of the bedroom in no time, feeling the chill spread through his body.

It’s going to be one of  _ those  _ nights.

John is in the kitchen, on his hands and knees at the top of the three steps leading into the living room. He’s surrounded by the broken glass of a beer bottle and kneeling in a puddle of said beer, and he’s visibly shaking without making attempts to move.

“John.” Alex’s voice is soft and he slowly walks towards him. It’s safer for both of them to treat John like a cornered animal. “John? Look at me.  _ John.” _

John looks over at him and his eyes are shining with tears. He looks down at the puddle, then lifts his hand to peer at the shards of green glass stuck in his skin; a whimper comes from his throat and he hunches over, letting out a sob.

Alex reaches him and kneels on the stairs, carefully setting a hand on John’s back. “Jacky,” he whispers, beginning to gently rub. “Do you know who I am?”

John looks at him with shining eyes. His chest is rising and falling unevenly with each desperate breath and he visibly swallows. “Ham,” he whispers. “You’re Ham.”

Alex can’t help but smile and he nods. “I’m Ham.  _ Your  _ Ham.” If John can recognize him this quickly, it isn’t as bad as he thought. “And who are you?”

John stares at him and he lets out a hiccup as tears begin to drip down his cheeks. “I - I don’t know,” he whispers. He shuts his eyes tightly, letting out another sob. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know  _ anything,  _ I swear-”

“No, no,” Alex whispers quickly, rubbing circles on John’s back. “It’s okay. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt you. You’re home.”

“Not home, this isn’t home, not  _ home-” _

“Shhh, Jack.” Alex takes gentle hold of John’s arm, urging him to stand. “Can you stand for me? We’ll clean this mess up and lay on the couch. Okay? You can trust Ham.”

John stares up at him. “Ham,” he whispers, before hesitantly allowing himself to be pulled up. “But - Ham’s gone - “

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m Ham, and you’re safe.” Alex takes John’s hands and carefully pulls the glass from them, then sets the shards with the others on the floor. “Come with me, okay? It’s safe. I promise you.”

John stares at him, then nods, trembling. “Okay,” he whispers.

Relief floods through Alex and he takes John’s wrist gently before he leads him to the living room. Once there, he gently pushes John to lay down, and he grabs the remote. After pressing the ON button, the mounted flat screen flicks on, filling the dim room with blue light. He easily finds Netflix, then  _ Stranger Things. _ He lets episode 1 start playing, sets the remote on the ottoman, then turns and walks back to the kitchen.

John lays quietly while Alex begins to clean the mess. He soaks up the beer with paper towels, then sweeps the glass. He wets some more paper towels under the faucet and wipes the area again to clear the tile of any stickiness. He throws the paper towels away and takes a deep breath, looking around at their apartment loft.

It could be worse. John could have punched him, attacked him as if he were one of his captors. It’s happened before. He could have trashed the place. Happened before. There’s been nights where John would get up for water, cut up an apple for himself and not realize he had nicked himself until they woke up to bloody sheets.

Alex is damn glad he’s a light sleeper. He usually wakes when John gets up.

There are three pill bottles sitting on the counter. Alex walks over and looks at each with a frown. John’s medications for anxiety and depression, Alex’s sleeping pills. “Sweetheart,” he calls. “Did you take any of these?”

“Mmmph,” is the only response.

Alex frowns, then unscrews the lids and carefully dumps the contents onto the counter. He counts each pile, keeping in mind how many there were in the bottle originally. John’s meds were refilled this Monday; three days ago. There’s a correct amount missing. Alex bought a new bottle of sleep aids on Sunday and it seems John hasn’t touched them either. He takes a deep breath of relief and takes the three bottles, putting them back in the medicine cabinet.

John is curled up on the couch with a blanket, and Alex’s heart aches at the sight. He walks to the living room and sinks to his knees beside the man, resting his cheek against the edge of the cushion. “Do you remember who you are?” he whispers, drawing John’s attention.

The wildness and confusion has left John’s eyes and he stares at Alex for a moment before whispering, “Jacky.”

“That’s right.” Alex smiles and leans forward to kiss John’s cheek, smoothing back his wild curls. “You’re Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens, and you’re my Jacky.”

“The war,” John says, his voice sounding small and childlike. He sounds scared.

“It’s over, sweetheart. We fought and we won and we’re free. You were so damn brave, you know that?” Alex takes his hands, intertwining their fingers. “They called you a hero. The General honored us. Do you remember that? In the capital?”

John swallows, then nods, taking a deep breath. “I remember,” he whispers. He curls up into a ball, pulling the blanket with him. “Lay with me.”

“Of course.” Alex grabs another blanket from the back of the couch and pulls it around himself, climbing onto the couch beside him. He lays beside John, curling against him, and he rests his head against his shoulder. Their hands find each other and their fingers intertwine.

He feels something wet and he looks at their hands, pulling his own back to see blood smeared across his palm from John’s cuts. “You’re bleeding,” he mutters, and he moves to get up.

John’s hand darts out and grabs Alex’s arm, and his eyes are pleading. “Don’t leave me,” he whispers. “Please, Alex. Don’t leave me.”

It strikes a blow to Alex’s heart and he stares at John for a moment. “... I’m just going to get a paper towel, okay, Jacky? To clean you up. Just a moment.”

John’s eyes are scared but he shrinks back against the couch, letting go. Alex’s heart aches.  _ You don’t fucking deserve this. _

He wets a paper towel and wipes off the blood stains on himself before he walks to the couch. He takes John’s hands and carefully wipes clean of blood. “Do you want anything?” he whispers, when the last of the blood disappears onto the towel. “A bath, or food?”

“You.” John is curled up tightly. “I just need - you - I don’t want you to  _ leave.” _

“I’m not going to leave. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” Alex kisses John and lays again on the couch, shifting behind him. He wraps his arms around his waist and presses a kiss to his cheek. “If you need  _ anything,  _ baby, just tell me.”

“You should sleep, Alex,” John whispers.

“You know I hardly sleep anyway.” Alex gives him a smile. “I’ll be here if you have a bad dream, okay? Try to relax.”

John looks back at him with nervous eyes, but he relaxes when Alex starts to run his fingers through his curls. He lays still, and within minutes, he’s drifting off to sleep again. Alex follows a half-hour later, holding John as though he’d drift away if he let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Send prompts for me to write, or just come chat! @coffee-quill on tumblr


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